


Across Infinity

by endlesscloudsoftime



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Celebrity AU, Essentially fluff, M/M, Mafia AU, Magic, guns and bullets are involved essentially, stationery, the violence is slight (ish)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-11 21:36:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13533036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endlesscloudsoftime/pseuds/endlesscloudsoftime
Summary: This is a collection of drabbles/ficlets made for Victuuri week (31st Jan - 07th Feb 2018) on Tumblr.





	1. Day 1: What the Future Holds

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt - Yuuri: Future

If you had told 14 year old Katsuki Yuuri that in approximately ten years time his biggest idol and crush would greet him at his family onsen - stark naked - while announcing his intentions to coach Yuuri for the Grand Prix, Yuuri would’ve called you a variant of the phrase ‘Don’t be stupid’ depending on how close you were to him. The closer the person the stronger the insinuation.

If you had told 24 year old Katsuki Yuuri that he would someday be rolling his eyes and harshly critiquing Victor Nikiforov’s step sequences while training alongside the Russian elites of figure skating in a year’s time, Yuuri would’ve scoffed, rolled his eyes and said “Don’t be silly, Victor is only here for this season and I’ll most likely be here (Hasetsu) for years to come.”

[An eavesdropping Victor would visibly wilt at this statement and spend the evening drinking away his sorrow at Nagahama Ramen’s]

At present, Yuuri thinks back to all his past selves and wonders what they would say if they saw their lifetime idol, goal, and biggest celebrity crush rolling around on the floor and crying crocodile tears into Makkachin’s fur, a PS2 controller dangling precariously from his fingertips.

Especially considering the man is almost thirty five years of age now.

Yuuri sighs fondly, reaching to push his hair away but almost whacking himself with his own controller while Victor continues to wail loudly. The television screen glows innocently, with Yuuri’s half of the screen flashing the words ‘YOU WIN’ in bright green. Victor’s half, on the other hand, depicts a battered car planted nose first into the side of a building.

“Victor, at least finish your game – look you’re almost there!”

Victor sniffles and lifts his head from Makkachin’s belly, nose unfairly adorable as it scrunches in dismay. “What’s the point?”, he whines, “You’ve already won anyway.”

And then he pouts. Yuuri is very, very weak against that pout.

“How about we just call this a practice round then , eh?”, he suggests softly. Victor stares at Yuuri with eyes resembling the blue saucers collecting dust at the back of their cupboard, and not even the competitive monster within Yuuri screeching its disapproval against the surrender can win against Yuuri’s utter weakness for his husband.

“Yuuuuuri, no, you won fair and square.” Victor regards him with a grave look, not unlike the ones he gives at the end of a long and unsatisfying practice. “But if you do feel bad about winning against me,” and here his face twists into a mischievousness that could rival a kitsune’s, “then teach me your ways.” The lilt of his voice, along with an accompanying wink at the end of his sentence is not lost on Yuuri, who feels like he had just trecked through Satan’s abode and back.

As Yuuri settles himself beside Victor, ignoring his growing blush and acquiescing his love’s nuzzles, he wonders what his younger selves would say, especially if he told them that their futures would consist of giving Victor a step by step tutorial of Need for Speed, followed by Mario Kart (of course) in person, with Makkachin strewn across their laps in a flat bearing the name plate ‘Katsuki-Nikiforov’.

 

 


	2. Day 2: The Unheard Truth Within

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When two hearts beat to the same drum, it's only a matter of time till they notice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - AU: Celebrity

_The world is unfair. Such beautiful creatures should not exist._

Katsuki Yuuri sighs as he watches a compilation of Victor Nikiforov’s famous red carpet wink on YouTube.

 

_The world is unfair. Such beautiful creatures should not exist._

Victor Nikiforov sighs as he rewinds to watch Yuuri Katsuki drag his tongue across his lips in a manner so sensuous it makes Victor’s knees weak. This might be his favourite film, Victor Nikiforov decides.

 

_What is even happening? Is this reality?_

Victor Nikiforov continues watching the scene before him unfurl, as Yuuri Katsuki turns an utterly boring fundraiser event into a night no one attending would ever forget.

 

  _What is even happening? Is this reality?_

Katsuki Yuuri stares incredulously at the hand outstretched in front of him, as Victor Nikiforov directs one of those devastating winks his way. Yuuri might just successfully perform the art of public combustion.

 

_Maybe it’s all just an act. Maybe he doesn’t want me that way._

Katsuki Yuuri grips on to Victor Nikiforov’s shirt just a little bit tighter than his character should, wishing that the look in his eyes was not as recognizable as it is, wishing that he himself could be the recipient someday.

 

_Maybe it’s all just an act. Maybe he doesn’t want me that way._

Victor Nikiforov sighs, gaze forlorn and unwilling to leave Yuuri Katsuki’s retreating figure. This was the fifth time this week that his advances off set were rejected, and Victor awaits the moment he could lay his hands on the Grey Goose just slightly out of reach at home.

 

_Can you really get the things you want?_

Victor Nikiforov’s eyes widen as he finally notices the message Yuuri delivers on screen, his character acting as the mere messenger. Just as the character’s twirls come to a stop, Victor flings propriety across the room, heart bursting with long restrained emotion.

 

_Can you really get the things you want?_

Katsuki Yuuri’s eyes widen at the soft brush of lips on his, arms automatically extending to draw Victor in. He finally gives in to the urges that have plagued him for an eternity, and finally makes them known to Victor. Uncaring of time, place or occasion, Yuuri cares only about the world swirling in Victor’s eyes as he rises slightly.

 

_Can one person have so much power on you?_

Katsuki Yuuri’s heart clenches with surprising force, as he tries to contain feelings he doesn’t know the intensity of. Victor Nikiforov, with his beautiful heart shaped smile, is promised to him, the glints of gold on their right hands proof of the promise.

 

_Can one person have so much power on you?_

Victor Nikiforov’s heart clenches with surprising force, despite his knowing that his feelings emerge from a bottomless cavity in his chest. Katsuki Yuuri awkwardly bows at the presenters, clutching his hard-earned golden trophy. Victor, however, is held captive by the gold in the words spoken previously and by the gold glinting on their right hands, partners in crime overshadowing the well sought-after Oscar.

 

 

_\- Regardless of whatever happens, he’s the one I want to come home to. -_

Victor and Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov interlace their fingers at the same moment their counterparts on screen do, happiness sparking at the thought that the warmth they had so frantically chased was finally there to stay.


	3. Day 3: Shots Fired, None Unscathed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, Viktor wishes the Bratva had lesser enemies than they did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt(s)- Yuuri: Longing (slight - you might have to squint to see it), AU: Mafia

Gunshots rang through the seemingly empty dockyard and Viktor cursed as the click of his magazine signaled a need for refill. Tossing his hair back, he reminded himself the need for the strands of silver currently blinding his much needed vision so as to not hack them off in annoyance. A bullet whizzed by, a bit too close to comfort, forcing Viktor to abandon his convenient spot behind a row of barrels. Exposed, he barely had a second to prepare himself before the thunderous onslaught of bullets descended. Luckily, he didn’t have to run for too far before finding cover, and Viktor escaped behind a crate just seconds before a bullet flew past where he had been. The sheer force with which his new shield rattled on contact with the ricocheting bullets made Viktor wince, and he hastily reloaded his pistol. Not for the first time, he directed a stream of insults to the Yakuza, a general jab opening the flood gates but most of them revolving around how one of the best things he had ever come across on this planet happened to be a part of their ‘family’.

Viktor always had quiet a strong ‘No fraternizing with the enemy’ policy. Which he had already broken, to his sudden, and amused, realization.

 

*************

 

_He should not be this surprised, Viktor thought. He knew that he had an exceptional sight, both literally and figuratively, which had been a major contribution to his success in the Bratva. He should have realized that his choice in amour would not be any different._

_Yuuri’s eyes widened as he realized exactly who had barged in, his hold on the Type 97 loosening. His eyes filled with shock and guilt, and Viktor couldn’t help the pang of guilt that his own body felt, because it takes two hands to clap._

_However, before Viktor could even take a step towards Yuuri, the floor underneath them shook. Distracted, Viktor steadied himself and turned to call out to Yuuri, only to find himself alone in the room._

*************

Viktor could feel the desperation clawing at his skin. He had no idea where Yura and Mila were, and he was unsure of the number of people left that were still able to kill in the Yakuza. His source of constant reassurance, Georgi, was unavailable and it was all Viktor’s fault for getting too distracted to make sure his ear piece was still secure.

He hoped that Yuuri still had some sliver of affection for him, and would take pity on Viktor before shooting him from wherever he may have been perched.

 

*************

_“You really surprised me the day we met, you know?”_

_Viktor looked up from his position on the couch to watch Yuuri laying two plates down on the table. “Well, that makes two of us.”_

_Yuuri gave him a fond smile before busying himself again. “I don’t see how I’m surprise-invoking, unless you don’t have that many frazzled, sweatpants wearing grocery shoppers bumping into you in Russia.”_

_Viktor frowned._

_“We met before that, remember?”_

_Yuuri turns, eyes wide in shock. “No. No, I don’t.”_

 

*************

 

This deal should have been over in five days, and yet five months later Viktor was squatting under a raised platform, armpits stinking, sweat slicking down the back of his neck, fighting for his life. It was not an unusual scenario, not in the slightest, but Viktor had been counting, a bit too heavily, on lady luck.

 _Well there’s no use crying over spilt milk,_  he muses.

With Yura's and Mila’s locations still unknown to him, and the Yakuza slowly gaining on him, Viktor felt more cornered than he had in years. The last time he had felt this way was under much more dire conditions, and he had emerged victorious then, so he wasn’t worried about his skills. He was more worried about a certain sniper in the opposition, and Viktor knew that when he worried he often left one too many openings. He did not need the added hindrance of an injury during his escape.

Rounding the corner, he came face to face with a member from the Yakuza, unusually taller than him. Viktor prided on his reflexes and only in one circumstance in his recent years had he been beaten, so when he found the Yakuza member dead from a bullet before he could even move, he instantly knew why.

 

*************

 

_Viktor could not believe his luck. Just three days prior he and Yakov almost tore apart the foundations of the headquarters bickering over the sudden trip to Japan. Viktor had priorities in Russia, and Japan had nothing there to help him. Or so he thought._

_He had never been more thankful that nature had decided to grace Yakov with the stubbornness of the bull, for it was that stubborn nature that enabled him to become the head of the Bratva, and it was with that authority that he all but flung Viktor out of Russia’s borders. For if he had never done so, how would he have had the opportunity to face this literal angel of a man?_

_The party was still underway, and at full swing too. Said angel was dangling from a narrow column, his movements precise even though the flush that occupied his cheeks seemed to have no end. Viktor was captured by his allure, and mesmerized, he made his way to the commotion._

*************

 

The scuffle had ended fairly quickly after that, especially when he came upon Mila by chance after diving behind another crate. They re-united with Yura near the entrance of the dock, who had his phone in a raised hand but quite a distance away from his ear. Viktor winced at that, and then proceeded to spend the next hour being thoroughly lectured by Yakov, as always to a deafening limit and beyond.

After a spontaneous round of celebration (the deal had gone south but their lives could have as well, and all the Russians were  _dying_  for some alcohol), Viktor returned to his hotel room, only to find that he was not alone as the door clicked shut.

The tension only relaxed some upon seeing who his visitor was, but his voice was grating even to his own ears when he asked, “Why did you help me?”

Blazing eyes, black in the dim lights of the suite, snapped to meet his. “I think the past few months make my reason perfectly clear.”

“They would have if I was still unaware of your association with my enemy.”

“They still do because you have the wrong idea about my associations.” Yuuri’s body shifted slightly, tensing even more, as his tone fills with accusation, “Besides, you’re not blameless in this situation.”

“I never lied to you.”

“You never told me the truth either.”

Viktor sighs, and drops onto the nearest armchair. “Forgive me if I didn’t want the love of my life to run away from me once he knew I am Russian mafia. How did I know he’d be part of the Yakuza?”

Yuuri mouth quirks, his smirk still able to stir and muddle feelings Viktor didn’t know he could have.

“Oh Victor. That’s where you’re wrong. I’m not Yakuza.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I. Died. I had such a hard time writing this because I wasn't getting a clear idea of what to do with this. It didn't help that my stubborn self wanted to stick to the original rough idea I had using these prompts. Well, all said and done, I'm happy with what has come out of this and I might even continue it sometime later.


	4. Day 4: Pens and Papers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor finds that the same ink bleeds through different papers at different speeds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Free Prompt 
> 
> Since it's a free prompt, I decided to go with stationery.

It is a well known fact that Victor is a little particular about organisation. Anything he can label, he will. Anything he can coordinate, he will. Of course, he doesn’t force his system on others, as he is aware of the boundaries that exist between individuals. He had to know, after all, for anything you did could end up as a potential scandal the moment you win your first Nationals gold. Victor learnt that the hard way.

Which is why his first reaction to Yuuri’s sticky tabs emerging from one of his notebooks is to think ‘Oh, I’m rubbing off on him’.

However, he is struck by the odd fact that he has never, not even once, told or shown Yuuri his stationery, let alone observe his organizational skills in this area. He knows that Yuuri isn’t oblivious to his tick (Yuuri is only a blockhead when it comes to his advances, and Victor is already suspicious of even that being true) and Victor has spent his whole career carefully crafting his persona to be all things big and exuberant. It wouldn’t do to have the world know about his obsession for intricacy in everything. It makes him (or made him rather) more mysterious, and mystery provides the perfect platform for speculation and surprise. And what would Victor Nikiforov be if he ran out of ways to surprise. So while Yuuri was aware of Victor’s obsession in changing the scheme of his wardrobe, and making notes about the way all the dishes are stored in the kitchen (and giving pointers), Victor was sure that Yuuri didn’t know about the stationery obsession. Granted he had been working on being more of himself after the talk on the beach, but change isn’t instant, and Victor doubted that people suddenly sprung their love for all things pen and paper just like that.

So then his next thought was, ‘I have found a kindred soul.’

He thought this to be plausible, after all, an obsession didn’t have to be visible to exist. He was primary exhibit A on that front. He wanted to reveal this layer of himself to Yuuri and share it with him, and after much thought decided to reveal it on the day they went to Nagasaki on their day off.

However, his hopes were dashed when Yuuko brandished a book with similar sticky tabs from her office, and Victor spent the rest of the training session at Ice Castle wondering if this was a Hasetsu thing. His theory further cemented itself in his mind when he managed to get a glimpse of the Katsuki’s accounting books from a distance, covered in those same sticky tabs. Victor was glad he had waited till the Nagasaki day trip to ask Yuuri, and thus his obsession was still under the radar when they came back the following night.

The more Victor explored Japan, the more he found out about their care for detail. Yuuri didn’t accompany him for every single trip, and sometimes Victor stayed overnight in big cities. This was when Victor indulged in things he felt guilty about dragging Yuuri into, like trying out the different kinds of Japanese liquor available, hitting up all the cliched tourist spots and getting his souvenirs, lingering over the text in museums and exhibits, and paying a visit to all the stationery stores. The bigger the city, the larger the haul, and the more he got fascinated by. It didn’t help that Japan had top of the quality stationery products, and Victor found himself slowly but surely becoming spoilt.

Now aware that the basic level of valuing different forms of paper and ink is higher in Japanese people than others, Victor decides to never actively mention it to Yuuri, but he never hid it either. Post-its start showing up slowly but surely, a reminder to add a set of exercises to a regime, a heads-up that Victor had left for a stroll and more. It wasn’t long before Yuuri had a collection of animal post its with Victor’s handwriting on it stored in his desk drawers, and since Victor was never told to stop, he never did.

It took a surprisingly long time for the topic to be actively discussed. Yuuri pauses when making his routine evening tea one day in St.Petersburg to ask Victor, “Uhm, I’ve been wondering for a while now, but how come you don’t use post-its as much anymore?”

Of all the ways Victor thought of this being revealed, he hadn’t imagined it to start this way.

“Well,” Victor starts sheepishly, “I actually have an obsession for stationery. A huge one. And in Japan it was easy to indulge in it because different forms of cute stationery was easily accessible.”

When Victor didn’t continue, Yuuri raised an eyebrow. “So? How is that related to the post-its?”

Twiddling his fingers, Victor ducks his head, “I wanted to save the animal stationery. Also I’ve run out of plain post-its and I forgot to replenish them.”

Yuuri stares at Victor silently, watching his fiancé squirm slightly before sighing.

“Silly Victor.  I missed your post-its.”

Victor raises his head with wide eyes as he watches Yuuri resume his routine. He should’ve realized that Yuuri would accept his quirk, that Yuuri would happily indulge in it as well. Heart feeling lighter, Victor promptly proceeds to nuzzle his being into Yuuri’s neck, earning light chuckles from the latter.

“I’ll use the poodle one tomorrow. Just for you.”

_Always._

 

                                                                                                                                            

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was purely an indulgence. I couldn't help but fit one of my life loves in here. I tried to make them as true to character as possible, but if they (especially Victor) seem a little OOC then please do forgive me. Otherwise, hope you enjoy this one as well!


	5. Day 5: Trails of a Legacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magic does not necessarily mean prominence. The same is true vice versa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt- AU: Fantasy

Yuuri waves his hand, and watches the air shimmer. It’s one of the only things that calms him down. Granted, he doesn’t need to wave his hand for his powers to work, let alone create an effect but the motions play a major role in pushing his anxiety to the recesses of his mind. He turns his head, and from his position on the mattress he comes face to face with his framed photograph of his biggest inspiration.  

Yuuri always thought that his mediocre magic would be a hinderance, would put him below those who could showcase theirs, aggrandize theirs. At the tender age of seven he forced himself to actually see the reality of his standing on society’s landing based on his magic, and he resigned himself to a life lacking novelty.

His resignation did not stop him from enjoying the pleasures that came his way, be it in the form of katsudon, ballet or ice skating. When Yuuri was shown the gold medal winning routine of the Junior World Championships, he was completely mesmerized by Viktor Nikiforov. And when he found out that Viktor Nikiforov did not use his magic of water and temperature manipulation at all in the competition, let alone to gain presentation scores, he decided that maybe, just maybe, he would be able to someday do the same. Maybe someday he would be able to infuse not just novelty but also fireworks into his life.

 

\-------------

 

Yuuri watches the never ending flashes before him, stunned beyond belief. It was not the gold that he had envisioned in the past eight months, but it is a fruition of his dreams. It would have been perfect with the gold, but he may have to save that for another time. Holding the medal on his chest up, he smiles at the silver that catches the flashes directed his way and is reminded of the silver that his carried him through to this point. The silver that strived its best and succeeded to obtain gold so unconventionally that it made history, and now Yuuri was the proud successor to that mantle.

Years ago, Yuuri was just striving for the tendrils of a dream. Now, promised to a person whose everything was his everything, he was aiming for something more tangible. The realization struck home on the podium, and Yuuri felt full to the brim. So much so that all of his happiness spilled forward, tinging the whole rink with the colours of his heart. The resulting warmth on his skin did nothing to quell the feeling, and for once Yuuri felt at peace with the sparks within.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I...somehow...did it...... *lies in corner and lets the brain cool down*  
> [I'm sorry it's so short - life got in the way >.<]


	6. Day 6: What the Weather Brings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri looks at the rain and feels the nostalgia, but not as intensely as he expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Yuuri: Family

Yuuri looked at the weather doll hanging from the window and then turned to look at Victor, who seemed to be scrutinizing the doll the same way he scrutinized Yuuri’s jumps. Looking back at the doll, Yuuri noticed the St.Petersburg skyline in the backdrop and the imagery was so disconnected from what it usually used to be he felt slightly disconcerted.

Yuuri had never had good memories associated with the ‘teru-teru-bozu’ itself. As a child, he was often disappointed that it wouldn’t be effective against the weather whenever he wished for it, that the skies were always undeterred in their agenda when he wanted them to change. After the third failed attempt at wishing the rain away, he lost faith in its charm, and no matter what his mother would say, he would always be skeptical about its potency.

Blinking once, Yuuri realized that other than the backdrop, the difference between his past and present was not significant. The skepticism about the whole process was still present, the fluttering doll seemed to taunt Yuuri all the same, and the air was warm – reminiscent of the atmosphere that would linger in Yuutopia. His mother would hang the ‘teru-teru-bozu’, Mari, having clasped her hands, would recite the special prayer she made, and his father’s amused chuckle would always serve as a background soundtrack. Yuuri realized that the only other difference from then was the presence of his family, and although he missed them as the nostalgia rolled over his soul in waves, watching Victor being unable to look away from the swaying doll was more than enough to keep him from feeling the pangs of homesickness.

Twining their hands together, all the while staring at Victor, Yuuri said, “We usually pray after hanging it up. Most people back home either use a simple ‘Please do not let it rain’ or sing the song for it but Mari wanted to make a special ceremony just for family so she made a custom prayer for us. Would you like to hear it? We can say it together then.”

Yuuri would never understand Mari well enough to be able to predict her likes and dislikes. Her fascination with the ‘teru-teru-bozu’ baffled him then and it still baffled him now. Especially when she exaggerated it. For even now, on rainy days, whenever the load of the laundry for the inn was too great, or whenever she traveled to different parts of Japan, the ‘teru-teru-bozu’ would – without fail – be hanging from her windowsill on nights prior. Yuuri, however, was thankful for her strange infatuation when Victor turned to him, bright blue eyes sparkling with delight and childish wonder, head vigorously shaking up and down in consent. Makkachin senses his excitement and puts in her own word of approval, stretching Yuuri’s smile to impossible lengths as he teaches the most recent members of his family old traditions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I actually fell asleep while working on my prompts for yesterday, hence the delay in this chapter. However, I'm glad I had this worked out beforehand so even though life got in the way I at least managed to type this out today so I'm happy it's not too big of a gap. I love watching anime characters hanging up teru-teru-bozu's and hopefully one day I get to see one in the flesh!


	7. Day 7: On the Road Unseen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The road Yuuri traverses on is long, but he doesn't mind, not really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Victor: Journeys

Never had Yuuri thought that his domestic fantasy of going to the supermarket with Living Legend Victor Nikiforov would actually come true. Then again, it hadn’t.

Instead he got to go with Victor Nikiforov, owner of Makkachin and voyeur of Yuuri’s fragile heart, a Victor whose whole being was encompassed by that one name alone.

The Victor who was holding a box of cereal that looked like it would win the Guiness World Record for ‘the fastest diabetes inducing cereal ever’, eyes as wide as dinner plates as he silently transmits his pleas for said box to Yuuri.

Another thing that younger Yuuri would have been unprepared for was the absolute lack of emotion in his system in response to the plea.  _‘Well…’,_ Yuuri’s mind backpedals,  _‘maybe not absolute.’_ The slight tug at his heartstrings reminds Yuuri that he will never truly be immune to Victor, but that’s only because it’s Victor his emotions respond to and not Victor-who-wants-to-die-of-a-sugar-rush.

As Yuuri silently plucks the box from his fiance’s hand and puts it back on the shelf tuning out the wails of protest, he happily thinks to himself, ‘ _This is going to be one heck of a journey.’_

\-----------------

_‘I want out of this ride’_  Yuuri wildly thinks as he tries to bury his face further in his hands.

Victor is unaware and uncaring of Yuuri’s predicament as he cooes over a limited edition Victor Nikiforov poster from 2012. The floor is littered with an assortment of paper, from magazine clippings curling at the edges to laminated pictures of Victor in a wide variety of outfits, both skating and otherwise. Rolls of thick glossy paper surround Victor, restraining him to the area next to Yuuri’s bedside table, while Yuuri curls into himself in the opposite side of the room. As Viktor collects a bunch of bracelets (all from different fanclubs with variants of ‘I love Vic/ktor’) and twists them around his fingers, Yuuri lets out a high-pitched whine and scrambles to reach Victor, determined to snatch them away.

Seeing through his plans, Viktor puts his occupied hand out of reach and laughs, “Yuuri there’s no need to be embarrassed, everyone has an idol they would buy merchandise for.” His smile, gentle when addressing Yuuri, turns into something sharp and devious, and Yuuri feels inappropriately aroused. “Of course, I don’t think four copies of their idol modelling sports underwear counts though.”

Yuuri begins to put his collection away, touch still reverent even after knowing the dork behind the uncomfortable glittering smile adorning his precious posters. Victor lowers his arm and rocks one of the picture frames Yuuri has of him during training (and that too not during a session at Hasetsu, Victor amusedly thinks) closer to his chest. As soon as Victor’s hand touches the floor, bracelets presence forgotten, does Yuuri take his chance to wrestle the bracelets and frame out of reach and tackle Viktor to the floor.

 In the midst of the scramble, Victor hits his head against the bedside table and slumps against it to accommodate both their weights. Any discomfort they both felt gets disregarded as the air charges with an electricity that’s achingly familiar, and soon both are grappling at each other in desperation.

Latching on to Victor’s neck, Yuuri feels the thrumming of heat under skin as fingers skim over the expanse of his back.  _‘What will I do when this ride ends? I don’t want it to end’_

 

\-----------------

 

Yuuri fidgets with his tie again for the umpteenth time that hour, fingers twitching at every pull. He tries so hard to focus on just his breathing, on just  _breathing_ , but fails miserably.

_What if this is the depiction of the future? I’m going to fail-_

Before he could spiral further down that thought process, he has an earth shattering revelation.

It’s the end of an era.

 _I have no goal,_ Yuuri blankly thinks,  _after today my goals, my ideals, they all get fulfilled._

_The journey is over._

_I’m at the destination._

And Yuuri laments.

He knows he’s being overly dramatic. He has goals to meet and plans to fulfill. He has ideals to surpass.

But not in his romantic life. Not after today.

Getting married to Victor Nikiforov was a huge part of his fantasies that was made the ideal, goal and plan at the age of 24. After today, he would’ve made it.

But what comes next?

Before he could ponder over it, the answer to his recent life-crisis comes from his soon-to-be-husband, announcing its arrival in a buzzing reminiscent of those emitted by honey bees. Yuuri can’t help the curl of his lips as he reads

“ _I can’t wait for us to be married, it’ll be like a never-ending road trip! The rings will still be shiny when we’re old of course.”_

Trust Victor to blow away his anxiety with just a sentence. Trust Victor to know exactly what was bothering him and how to fix it. The answer had been so simple.

It is the end of an era. And the beginning of another, it’s destination a speck in the distance.

Yuuri couldn’t wait to partake on the next journey either. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YES I'M CAUGHT UP HERE. Well.. to be fair... last week's me is a real genius for having predicted my predicament. So hats off to her for letting me catch up here on time. One more left to go!


	8. Day 8: The Sound of Your Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shared melodies pave the way for shared memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt(s) - Yuuri: Dreams, AU: Soulmate

_The air is frigid, even though he cannot feel it on the plane he exists in here. Cute foggy clouds of breath disappear into the atmosphere within seconds of creation, and he follows their trail backwards to see a tiny boy with a large, funny hat on his head, covering his hair. Ice blue shards of eyes follow the trail of self-made clouds and with each one, a smile erupts, strangely heart shaped. Somewhere in the distance, he hears the soft tinkles of a piano._

The first time Yuuri manages to enter the dream like sequence everyone talks about is when he is six years old and is listening to a proper rendition of Debussy’s Clair de Lune instead of what Mari bangs on the piano. He doesn’t understand why he has suddenly dreamt of a cold place and a strange boy, that too in broad daylight, so he runs to his mother to ask about it. Although looking quite surprised, his mother calmly explains the soul connection to him, and Yuuri feels the urge to see the strange boy again.

 

_The world passes by in a blur, but he is not worried because this is a familiar sight for him, too familiar a sight. The crescendo of the orchestra crashes through him and he feels himself take off into a jump he is not familiar with yet. A skate comes into view, and he looks up the endless mesh and the spare pieces of diamonds to see the face he was viewing on television just moments ago. Ice blue shards unchanged as they flicked across the rink, Victor Nikiforov effortlessly transitions into a spin before getting and holding his last position, eyes bursting with fireworks even though his chest heaves from exertion._

As the music fades, so does Yuuri’s second dream, and he not only has to face the fact that he just witnessed the most mesmerizing skater perform a routine that may have just cemented Yuuri’s career path as a figure skater, but also the fact that such an ethereal person is his soulmate.

 

_Yuuri knows he’s probably experiencing Victor’s world, and that the fur in front of him definitely belongs to Makkachin, but it’s still disconcerting to see Makkachin exactly where Vicchan was seconds ago, with the same music in the background playing too. Yuuri lifts his head to locate Victor, and when he does he turns cherry red and feels like a pervert, because Victor sways his hips in time with Shakira’s voice, uncaring of the suds flying from the sink as he garbles a twisted version of the song back at Makkachin. Yuuri can’t turn his eyes away from his idol, who, with every passing second is proving to be as much of a dork as Yuuri. Yuuri barely registers the song ending as he watches Victor gracefully wipe his hands dry on a kitchen towel, and as he turns his head –_

\- he finds Vicchan exactly where they were and have been, on the floor of Yuuri’s bedroom, the sunlight hitting the room at low angles as Yuuri indulged in some comfort petting and Shakira songs that Yuuko insisted he listen to. With the exception of one moment, three years ago when his life tilted on its axis, Yuuri has never been more thankful for Yuuko and her obsessions.

 

_The scrape of blades in a practically dark room scares him, but the sparse moonlight that illuminates the place reveals Victor’s position in bits and pieces, and although Yuuri knew that he wouldn’t be there if Victor wasn’t, it was still comforting to see him. Victor’s latest short program piece is ringing through the rink, and Victor stops mid-skate to collapse on the floor in a heap. Yuuri bends, trying to see Victor’s face, hands hovering from a distance in an attempt to comfort despite knowing that he couldn’t be seen. Dry, heavy sobs rack through Victor’s frame and fill the rink, almost drowning out the music in the background._

Yuuri finds himself back in his own rink, though this is the first time he has wished to be standing on another rink altogether. He sends a tiny prayer to Victor, resumes his training with an added vigour, eager to close the gap as soon as possible.

 

_It was slightly disconcerting, to try to pay attention to his performance while watching it from a TV screen at the same time. He sees Victor pause in his warmup to watch Yuuri on screen, and Yuuri would have been equal parts terrified and thrilled if Vicchan…._

_Victor winces as Yuuri on screen flubs a jump, and Yuuri beside him gazes on sadly, wondering why this was happening today of all days._

Yuuri returns to the ice, heart heavier than ever, but unable to mourn over anything other than Vicchan.

Brown and Blue lock gazes, words are said, backs are turned, curiosity heightens.

 

 

Yuuri’s visits stop after the Grand Prix, and in an attempt to salvage the connection, he throws his heart and soul into covering the closest rendition of Stay Close to Me.

_Victor watches on with worried eyes and a hopeful heart._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: In this universe, one of the two soulmates has daydreams of what the other is doing when they both hear the same music at the same time, and once they acknowledge each other's presence in the flesh, the role switches.
> 
> And that's a wrap! I wish I could have posted this yesterday, but what's done is done, and I'm glad I finished this week! It's been quite a ride, and some things have turned out quite different from what I expected, but I'm happy with all that is here. Hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed making it, and see you sometime in another library of words ^.^

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone ^.^ As you can see, I'm participating in Victuuri week and I'm SO excited to see where the characters (and my very unpredictable brain) take me! Hope you like my versions of things and if there's anything I've got wrong please do let me know because the editing is still done by yours truly (*/ω＼)


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